SEARCHING

The more I search within the more convinced I become that my life exceeds the limits that I alone have imposed. Being Black and American and female are taking on new meaning, beyond the borders of this shore. I am, at least for the moment, concerned less with the "Black Agenda" and more with efforts of peace. How can I, within my soul and within my home, remove myself and the man I love and the children I have birthed from the flow of anger and violence and into the flow of peace? How can I aid in reducing human suffering? Here, in the United States, I have learned a language that few understand. I understand the etiology of heart disease, HIV, AIDS, cancer, celiac disease, lupus. I know what the research means, I understand the treatment modalities. I know the meaning of a CD-4 count and a gastrograffin study. The latest research does not elude me. I am, too, a writer, a thinker, a speaker, a counselor. I have held hands as last breaths were taken. I have been washed with the warmth of Spirit leaving the room as the body slips into a cold state. As a nurse, I have wrapped my arms around the shoulders of people whom I've never known, hoping to help in the healing of their suffering. In other words, Spirit within me calls for awakening...to use the tools I have been given for a greater purpose than for what I have been striving toward.

I gravitate here and find myself, a moment later, over here, excited that the work I want to do is indeed being done. How to connect to that work, I ask Spirit, and what to offer? Who to call? First (and continually) the inner work, the continued path toward enlightenment, for one can only give from what one already has, not from what one is trying to get. I do know this: change is afoot. The ceiling is lifting, blowing free in vast new ways. Writing is a branch of a very large tree, the tree of my Life; a platform that I must use also for the healing of human suffering. I trust that I will find the way, or, rather, that the way will be revealed to me in right time. For now, the inner work.

---A.

FOR THE LOVE OF MONEY ..... OR ART?

Strolling through unread emails I stumble across this, an excerpt from a column written by a fellow writer/mama/artist:

Up until now, I've had to do a lot of work on not confusing money and art....
The value of the work and the earning power of the writer do not necessarily go hand in hand. I believe it is essential for every artist to have a clear, unwavering self-definition of their work outside of the marketplace. And whatever is done for the marketplace should be seen clearly as something that has been bought and sold. I choose not to create work based on the whims and rewards of the marketplace. I choose to privilege my own art-making instincts and interests over the requests and demands of the marketplace. That being said: what if you do want to make a living off your work AND you want to be completely loyal to yourself as an artist?

My coworker believes it impossible. Just the act of trading art for money, he believes, corrupts the art. Being paid for artwork has the power to influence the artist’s choices, and when external forces encourage the artist to change the thrust of the work, then the art-making environment is dirtied.

::SNIP::

Her view is:

Corruption occurs when the marketplace is there on your shoulder as you're defining your art and yourself as an artist. Learning to participate in the marketplace and not leave your identity up for sale is an essential skill for an artist.

AND LATER IN THE ESSAY SHE ADDS:

So a new quandary is born. How do I pursue that financial success while not getting art and money twisted? How do I put my efforts into production and marketing, while leaving art in its own house calling the shots as far as
art-making is concerned? How do I reach without grasping, stretch without abandoning, make a leap without getting turned around? And if I don't claim it for myself, how will I bring it all down?

:::SNIP:::


And I say:

When I first started writing my novel, a good friend (a poet) urged me to keep at the forefront of my mind that what I was doing was creating art. Though intrigued by my frequent trips to Iowa for writing conferences, working overtime to pay for workshops, subscribing to various journals and purchasing all kinds of texts, we always faced the end of our conversations with her stating that I was "overworking"; that essentially I was doing too much psychoanalyzing of what was supposed to be "art." She would tell me over and over, "Angel, there are no rules when you're creating art." And I would always beg to differ.

To begin with, I never set out to write a novel that only I and I alone would want to read. I set out to write a good story that would, by it's quality and merit, catch the eye of a good agent and net a reasonable book deal. That being said, I realized that to accomplish that goal the story would have to have solid form. It would have to follow the essential and very basic rules of storytelling, of fiction writing. There were things I needed to know about dialogue and setting, point of view and pacing in order for my novel to have shape. Much like a potter has to learn just how much water to add as the wheel spins so that the clay does not clump nor wash away, so too does the writer need to understand the literary devices of fiction and be aware of when and where the rules apply as much as when and how then can be broken. This is what separates novels that work and novels that don't. Notice, I didn't say novels that get published, I said novels that work. OVer the past ten years I have set out and committed myself to the mastery of my craft. That also being said, I was then and now, very clear that writing is my life's work and I do not have any problem being (or desiring to be) compensated for my work.

One of the principles I have adopted is that the greatest acts of all that we humans perform are acts of love. When we share love with our lovers, with our children, with nature and with our friends; when we are engaged in meaningful work that we love we are in turn fulfilling the purpose that the Great Creator has put us here for. When we are rising everyday with excitement, filled with new ideas and the means to fulfill those ideas we are living in a space of love. When we are compensated for doing what we love, it enables us to create more of the good that we desire to create, be that art, music, books, animal rescue, space discovery of new life forms -- whenever we are engaged in activity that we love we are at our best and we are in turn filling the world with peace.

To me, a true road to suffering is one in which you head to work everyday doing work that you despise simply because you have bills to pay. Dragging ourselves out of bed, bickering the whole way down the steps and out the door to the car or train, disengaged all day because we're lamenting being behind that desk, missing out on all the good and wonderful experiences that come with mindful living. Jesus taught that he wants us to have life and have it abundantly. Buddhist teachings are such that we should resist all modes of suffering both in ourselves and in others. To that end, it only makes sense that compensation figure somewhere in that equation. I don't think the Creator was so unwise as to give us gifts and talents without means. This is why I urge my children to play, to discover, to color and paint, to read -- all so that they might find the road that leads to what makes them most happy because as is clearly evident with many financially successful people (many but not all) is that those who are happiest are those who are doing what they are most passionate about, what they love to do. Above all, I tell young people to give serious consideration to what they truly want to do and give no thought to the income because if you have to leave your house for the next thirty years to work, you'd better be doing something you really love or you are going to have a very miserable existence.

Do I think that compensation dirties the art? Only if you let it. Nothing has power over your intentions but you. I think of Alice Walker and Toni Morrison both of whom have been asked time and time again, "When are you going to write about white charachters?" And Gloria Naylor who was asked the same after she put out The Women of Brewster Place, Linden Place, and The Men of Brewster Place. (I will be satisfied when someone thinks to ask John Updike and Joyce Carol Oates the same questions). I admire Alice Walker and Toni Morrison immensely because of the conscious decisions they have made about their art, their unwavering commitment to the art of storytelling and to writing about black people and the net result of those decisions being solid commercial success. I believe that writing and finding their bliss through writing is what is first and that like the age old spiritual laws decree, the money is sure to come.

I have no desire to work as a nurse/cook/waitress/teacher/marketing person whatever, all my life, struggling to find enough mind space at the end of the day to give to my life's work. What I am after, like this mama-writer posits in her essay, is that union of all things -- the art, the love and engagement with life, my children and my husband; compensation in some large way so that I can in turn do something good for others, be it publishing other indigenous women, building a new public library in Rwanda, traveling to Cuba to install literacy programs --- whatever I can do to leave this place better than I found it, that is what I seek to do. I wish to use my life in such a way that the Creator has only to hold my face in His hands and smile when my soul returns.

**********************************************************************

On another note, two quotes from the same mama/writer/artist:

ALSO: Ghandi quote

"I have found that life persists in the midst of destruction. Therefore there must be higher law than that of estruction. Only under that law would well-ordered society be intelligible and life worth living. If that is the law of life we must work it out in daily existence. Wherever there are wars, wherever we are confronted with an opponent, conquer by love. I have found that the certain law of love has answered in my own life as the law of destruction has never done."


"It takes a fairly strenuous course of training to attain a mental state of nonviolence. It is a disciplined life, like the life of a soldier. The perfect state is reached only when the mind, body, and speech are in proper coordination. Every problem would lend itself to solution if we determined to make the law of trust and nonviolence the law of life."
----------------Mahatma Gandhi


ALSO: Baudrillard quote

"In a culture based on consumption rather than production, the meaning of an object derives not from its use but from its acquisition. Need is no longer the result of actual scarcity but a simulation, a fraudulent fabrication designed to perpetuate itself through the endless acquisition of objects to satisfy inauthentic, and thus never satiated, needs. Culture is defined not by people but by simulacra -unreal images- and commerce becomes a means of social control; there is no more "society," just the "mass." ------------Jean Baudrillard



Thank you to the mama/writer for such insightful words.

ANGEL

BALANCE

noun. #6: a harmonious or satisfying arrangement or proportion of parts or elements, as in a design; #7: a state of equilibrium.

5:35 a. - hit snooze on alarm clock.
5:40 a. - hit snooze on alarm clock.
5:45 a. - hit snooze on alarm clock.
5:50 a. - hit snooze on alarm clock.
5:55 a. - pull self out of bed.

6:00 - 6:15 - shower, dress.
6:15 - 6:30 - kiss children awake and urge them out of bed.
6:30 - 7:00 - dress and feed children, pack lunch, make sure book bags are organized. latte for self.
7:00 - 7:20 - gather coats, umbrellas, hats; climb in car.
7:25 - back van out of the garage and head to school.

7:55 - receive warm kiss from oldest child and watch her walk through front door.
8:05 - pull money from ATM for second child's field trip to see Corduroy play next week and money for school picture.
8:07 - stop off at post office for Paul Robeson stamps (second child in tow)
8:30 - receive warm kiss and pull and tug at leg from second child not wanting to seperate.
8:35 - promises to second child that Mommy will see him again at lunchtime.

8:50 - return Lion King 1 1/2 to Blockbuster
9:00 - return home. Yoga tape in VCR.
9:00 - 9:05 - clear sink of dishes, gaze out at trees in backyard. wait for spring.
9:07 - 9:45 YOGA

* Warm up
* Cat Pose
* Downward Dog
* Mountain Pose
* Sun Worship and Sun Breathing - to develop heat through body and burn toxins/fat.

9:50 - 10:15 - Abdominals
10:15 - 10:30 - Talk to spouse and catch up on phone calls.
10:30 - 12:30 - Edit/Revise next chapter. Print. (Done)
12:30 - 1:30 - Pick up second child from nursery school. Prepare lunch. Read story with child on lap. Tuck child in for nap.
1:30 - 1:45 - Return emails. Post notice about poetry night this Friday. Review flyer sent from gallery owner for featured poet reading on 3/28.
1:45 - 2:00 - Update blog.
2:00 - 3:30 - Meditation. More writing. Pick up oldest.


Now that's what I call a good day.

ANGEL

QUESTIONS

Am I leaving the only faith I've ever known?

Am I so disgusted, disappointed, disenchanted, frustrated that I've no choice but to retreat?

Am I searching for something else? or is the something else already here?

Do I mention it to family or do I leave it alone?

This I ask myself and all that I have come to is that no, I am not leaving my faith but what I am doing is sifting out that which no longer has place, no longer makes sense; that which does not work for me. Because I believe we are essentially spirits having human experiences (rather than the reverse) I must believe that we are put here for myriad reasons, one of which is to find our way back to God, to our Divine selves. Why spend your whole life following along like cattle in something you don't believe? In something that does not work for you? Much of the teaching in Christian churches today is surrounded and deeply entrenched in what I call the "fear tactic." Scaring you into giving half your income lest the Lord strike you down. Scaring you into going to church every single Sunday no matter whether or not the clothes are dirty and piled to the ceiling, homework is undone, you are mentally and physically exhausted ... gotta be there. Scaring women into having that fifth or sixth child that they know they can't (mentally or financially) afford to have. Scaring people away from birth control when they are old enough to be sexual but too young and immature to be a parent. Scaring women away from essential services offered by lifesaving institutions like Planned Parenthood. Judging those who choose alternative lifestyles and condemning them to a hell that none of us have the power to send them to in the first place. Masses and masses of Baptists, Catholics, Protestants and Presbyterians who can stand outside in the freezing cold all night to protest someone else's sexual preferences but can't put two hands together to pick up the telephone and call their senator and protest these outrageous prescription/healthcare costs. The same people who come out in the masses to protest an elected official installing a copy of the Ten Commandments in a public building but can't open their mouthes for half a second to say two words about these failing schools across the country. Christians who are supposed to be peace loving who stood in support of George Bush sending troops to Iraq on a wing and a prayer because it "seemed like" the Iraqi government had interest in selling WMD. I don't get it.
I don't see the masses of these people praying for peace. I don't hear the preachers telling people to go home and meditate, light a candle for peace; don't hear anyone calling for unification with our former friends and allies abroad. Don't hear anyone talking about the real crimes against humanity occurring as we speak in North Korea, Cambodia (6 year old prostitutes), parts of Africa ..... and the crisis in Haiti.

And I have a problem with it.

Am I turning away? No, I say. I am simply redefining what works for me and right now I am trying to live by the Buddhist tenets that remarkably, Jesus taught as well:

Right understanding
Right thought
Right speech
Right action
Right means of livelihood
Right effort
Right attitude
Right meditation.


ANGEL

WHEN THE STUDENT IS READY....

.... the teacher appears.

Something is happening. Something serious. Really, really serious. Something I can't yet talk about, surprisingly, because I don't yet have words. I can only describe it as a walk toward the sun, a radiant light that burns and hurts the eyes but feels so good all the same. Inside, I'm sure yet afraid. Afraid because it goes against all that I've ever been taught yet at the same time it seems that what I've been taught is part of this. It feels very similar to the time in which I was making the decision to grow my hair natural and then the decision to loc. I had known for many years that I'd be progressing this way at some point but the how, when, why, and where seemed elusive. It was just the right thing to do, no matter the consequences. No matter whether the boss liked it or not. No matter whether the family thought I was crazy. No matter whether it seemed unprofessional in my professional world. It just seemed like the next logical step.

And then recently, the decision to stop eating beef. After the whole mad cow upset it just seemed logical to stop ingesting something that was obviously at war within itself. You are what you eat, right? And the progression toward a truly organic lifestyle kicked in full force. From knitting my own washcloths to eliminating the beef, incorporating more vegetables and fruit. Just seemed obvious.

And now, the biggest thing, my faith. So many inconsistencies and so many contradictions. So many ill-teachings within the walls of the church. So much hypocrisy. The number of Christians who claim to be saved and followers of Jesus who turn right around and support violent media, video games, etc. So shocked about the Passion of the Christ that it leads me to ask: Just what DID you think crucifixon meant? a block party? So many that support war and do not even question acts of aggression within themselves, within their government. So many that have bought into the consumerism.

Within myself, product of this irrational American evironment from which I do plan to escape, I see the agression within myself. The anger when I'm cut off in traffic; the frustration at rude people who talk on their cell phones as the store clerk is ringing up their purchase. The anger at my government for robbing me of my civil liberties, suggesting that I need to be rated by them in order for them to decide whether or not I am "qualified" to fly. The anger at the complacency ... that people care more about Jennifer Lopez and Janet Jackson than they do about basic civil liberties that are hanging by a very seriously tenous thread. Frustration when reading blogs that blog on and on about nothing (I have taken to reading very few). And so there must be a better way to deal.

What am I gravitating towards? A Zen approach. A Zen approach to writing, living, eating, breathing.....existing. And what I am finding is that much of the Buddhist teaching is directly parallel to what Jesus taught. The only difference is that many Christians do not practice what they preach for two hours on Sunday.

Driving past a local church I saw their outdoor sign inviting people to their services and beneath, in those light-up letters similar to the changeable numbers at the gas station, I saw this:

READ YOUR BIBLE. IT'LL SCARE THE HELL OUT OF YOU.

And I can only wonder: What would Jesus think?

So, having stumbled across this
and this years ago and not reading either, I find myself engaged in them now.

ANGEL

GHEEZ! THE THINGS YOU FIND .....

....when you spend the whole day flipping through old copies of the New Yorker. I figured that magazine would be worth something sooner or later. This gives me hope. Check out the stories section, too. Can't wait till the catalogue arrives. I'm figuring I may have to dip in that Mad Money jar real soon.

Be good.

--- A.

BY ALL ACCOUNTS...

... I should be writing today or getting my picture done for the back cover of Butterflies or editing the poems I started a week ago ....

but I'm not.

I'm in a mode of cleaning, lightening, throwing away, ridding myself of all the things I no longer need.
The Spirit of Change is upon me. I feel it's breath, it's pulse beating within my own. I hear it's whisper: we are getting ready.

Getting ready for me is a process. I've acted impulsively at other times in my life, thrown caution to the wind and the results were disastrous. The Creator has always had a wonderful sense of humor in my life. He protects me from my foolish Self. Honestly. The decisions I made in youth should have, by all accounts, cost me more than they did. Like my elder spirit, Alice Walker, it seemed that I felt better, or at least more alive, when I lived on the edge. The closer I was to the edge the more alive I felt. But now there are two lives depending on me --- and that is a good thing --- for who knows where I'd be right now were it not for them. And so care has to be brought into the process. Care.

So where I want to jump and do and go and be, I have to calm the escape beats of my heart and rest in the knowing that Spirit must lead the way. Any other way would be disastrous. For now, Spirit says we are getting ready. There is work to be done, finished, completed. There is much to be gotten rid of. There are commitments that must be fulfilled. I know, for now, that the novel is one of those commitments. It is a "here" thing. I finally see why I am here in this space. The novel is intricately tied to here both physically and metaphorically and I know that it must be done. The journey depends on the completion of here. This I know. And so the task at hand is to stay focused, to keep the dreams alive, to look and read and research all the while staying focused; to not act impulsively, unwisely. To wait for Spirit counsel; to remain open and not rule out anything; to be careful of the thoughts put out in the wind, in the air, in the consciousness.

I am cleaning today.

---A.

IN THE MAIL TODAY...

...brown wrap marked "Media Mail." Package from my Sister-Solid in WDC (Washington, DC).

DaVinci Code is here.

We both have a promise going ... "we shall purchase NO MORE BOOKS!!" We both have books coming out of the ears. Books serving as bedside tables. Books in the closets, on the shelves, in the car, on the nightstands. Books bought but not yet read. Books bought during the midst of reading another. Two "She's Gotta Have It's." But she broke the rule. She was number 76 on the waiting list on the library and desperately needed to know what the hub-bub is all about with DaVinci Code, so she broke and laid her $24.95 on the table. And what's a good sisterfriend do? Share with another sister.


Anyway, the first page is a solid hook. I see why he's called a Master Storyteller. Though I'm in the middle of reading Seasons of a Man's Life which is research for my own novel, I give myself the right to digress an hour before bedtime. Reading is critical to writing, right?


Anyway, the entries are few and far between, I know. Time has to be rationed carefully these days. Much to say but much of it finding it's way into my own personal journal. Blogging, as it has always seemed to me, is much to outwardly. And right now, I'm making tremendous progress on the novel, spinning poems, reading and just trying to live in a space of sanity. Thinking alot about living abroad for a while. Spouse and I establishing a 3-5 year plan.
My romanticism with California slowly dissipating, due in large part to the recent realization that perhaps what I am looking for is not within these states at all. Deficits, failing schools, gouging at the gas pump, exporting jobs, lies, hypocrisy, sickening consumerism, complacency, misappropriated concerns and much ado about nothing (gay marriage debate) ... concerns and frustrations shared by many and nicely articulated in this.

Be good and know that I, and the family too, are well.

-- A.